


Paris, Boston

by newyorksnow



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, Love Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-17 15:32:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16098542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newyorksnow/pseuds/newyorksnow
Summary: "I told you how I felt about you and you left, and then you texted that you'd landed, and we haven't spoken since." Post-Paris, Jane and Maura confront each other following a confession which tore them apart.





	1. Chapter 1

“You didn’t have to do this, you know,” Jane said as she dried the plate Maura had just handed her.  When Maura gave her a slightly quizzical look, but said nothing, Jane elaborated.  “Any of this: Mom’s birthday meal, inviting me, letting me stay with you.”  The tension was palpable, more uncomfortable than either of them had expected.

Maura’s tone was impersonal, almost professional.  “Angela is not only my tenant, but my friend.  I was more than happy to throw her a celebration for her birthday, regardless of who that included.”  It was almost as if Maura had realised how blunt she had been, for a few seconds later, she looked over at Jane and gave a small, civil smile.  “I couldn’t let you waste money on a hotel room.”  Even when they hadn’t spoken for seven months, Maura still struggled to be mean.

Getting through the meal had been difficult, to say the least.  All the necessary organisation for this day had been communicated via Angela, much to her frustration.  They really hadn’t even sent so much as a text. 

Neither of them had anticipated plain sailing, but it was in the little things: the way Maura purposely sat at the other end of the table from Jane; how Jane would feel Maura’s gaze on her, but as soon as she looked up, the focus was on something else; how Maura refused Jane’s help with any aspect of cooking or serving.  Everybody noticed it, but nobody said anything, not even Angela.  It was obvious, and it was embarrassing.

However, when Jane insisted on helping clean up, Maura knew she had no choice but to accept – she wasn’t going to be the one to ruin Angela’s birthday by having a screaming match with her daughter.  Much to their surprise, within ten minutes of the group finishing their respective slices of birthday cake, they were all putting on their jackets as they magically produced numerous excuses as to why they had to leave.  With Ron taking Angela out for drinks and spending the night as his place (this particular excuse provoked a small groan and a jokingly disgusted expression from Jane), the two women were alone.  How convenient.

Who knew silence could fill such a huge area so quickly?  Nothing was said as Jane brought the plates and cutlery over in a couple of trips, likely because both of them were mentally preparing for the inevitable discourse ahead.

Now standing beside each other at the kitchen counter, small talk ensued as Maura washed the dishes whilst Jane dried them and immediately returned them to the correct cupboard.  Of course, she still knew where everything belonged.  The physical closeness between them could not compensate for the emotional distance; the few questions and answers they gave (mainly concerning work, naturally) were meaningless, the words empty.  It was futile, and after another bout of excruciating silence, they knew they could no longer skirt around the issue.

The problem was that, as they spoke simultaneously, it became clear that they had different ideas of how they wanted to approach it.

“We need to talk.”

“I love you.”

There was fear in their eyes, stinging them, but for completely different reasons.  Jane had never wanted the ground to swallow her as much as she did at this moment.  Maura’s demeanour rendered her a combination of fury, devastation and confusion.

“What?”  Maura refused to believe she had heard those words come from Jane’s mouth.  She felt defeated for a reason even she couldn’t quite comprehend, but she didn’t want to expose herself to the person who had hurt her so recently, and so profoundly.

Trying to find her confidence and charm again, there was now sincerity in Jane’s eyes.  They had softened a little as she smiled, a stark contrast from the steely gaze which met her.  “I love you.”

“What do you mean, you love me?  Don’t play games with me, Jane.”  Had the lighting in her kitchen always been this harsh?  She could feel her heart pounding in her chest faster than it had in months, and a slight feeling of dizziness ensued: she was worried she would go vasovagal.  The last time she had felt this heightened state of stress and anxiety?  The last time she had seen Jane.

“It’s not a lie, Maur.  I wouldn’t lie about this.”  Her eyes were pleading, begging her to listen.  “I’m in love with you, and I’ve been wanting to tell you since the second I landed back in Boston.”

The volume and pitch in her voice began to rise.  “Why are you telling me this now?  You couldn’t have told me seven months ago?”  All of those feelings she believed she had worked through, or had at least compartmentalised, were beginning to resurface.  And they were causing her more pain than she would have liked, especially in direct confrontation with Jane.

Arguing was the last thing Jane wanted to do.  Whilst she knew that Maura had every right to be angry and upset with her, part of her had secretly hoped they’d run into each others’ arms and be able to act as though nothing had happened.  She thought of all the wasted time, the solitary months in DC without her best friend.  How desperately she had wanted them to be more than friends, and yet she hadn’t even really been able to call her that after Paris.  “Maura, please.”

“I can’t do this again.” 

Jane had no problem expressing her confusion, slipping back into what felt like natural conversation with someone who knew her after months of awkward introductions to new colleagues.  “Do what?  I know that I hurt you, and that I was wrong to leave you like that.  I am sorry for what I did, but isn’t this a good thing?  I want to be with you, I do.”

“You broke my heart, Jane,” came Maura’s response.  Saying it so firmly made it real, much to the anguish of both women.  “I told you I was in love with you, and you left.”

There was every possibility that this could become ugly, if it wasn’t already.  “I had a job waiting for me, Maura, a job at the FBI.  You don’t make the FBI wait.”  Her tone verged on unforgiving, her voice a little husky.

“It was never about the _job_ , and you know it.  It’s the fact that after all the years we have been friends and everything we have gone through together…”  She was lost in thought as her mind flashed back through their years together at BPD, followed by the beautiful memories of Paris before everything went awry.  “I told you how I felt about you and you left, and then you texted that you’d landed, and we haven’t spoken since.”

It was hard to believe that the two women really hadn’t interacted since that last text from Jane the evening she arrived in DC.  Everyone knew the strength of their friendship – subconsciously probably thinking they were secretly a couple – so when it became apparent that they were no longer speaking, it was a big shock.  “I wanted to, but I’d hurt you enough.  I didn’t know what to say.”

Maura’s face was painted with shades of disbelief, disappointment and blinding pain.  Part of her couldn’t really believe those words had just come from Jane’s mouth.  It was more than clear to her, now, that Jane had no idea the extent of the impact her actions had had on her.  There was no better time to make her feelings known than the present.  Jane needed to hear this.

“I spent five months in Paris, alone.  I missed you every single minute of every single day.  Even when I was writing or exploring the city and other parts of the country, I failed to shake the thought of you from my mind.”  Taking a deep breath, she was aware of her current state of vulnerability as she placed a shaky pale hand on the kitchen island.  “I would walk along the Seine and wish we could talk as if nothing had happened.  I would reimagine our conversation at the airport in multiple ways, thinking of all the things I would have said and done differently.  Thinking of what I could have said that would have made you stay.  All I did was think, and analyse, and overanalyse, and criticise every part of myself and every moment of our relationship.  I felt so broken, so worthless.  I missed you terribly, Jane.  And now you’re here,” Maura looked directly into those all too familiar brown eyes as she spoke, “and my mind is a blank page.  I don’t know what to say to you.”

Jane was cautious, but hopeful.  Maura’s words had been a lot to take in, but that was the problem: she hadn’t really absorbed them.  Now a step closer to the medical examiner, she spoke gently when she responded with, “Maybe you could figure out if you still want this?” as she attempted to reach out for the other hand.  She was pushing the boat out, and she knew that.  However, unknowingly, she was pushing her luck.

Her gesture was met with an immediate flinch, dismissed as Maura moved backwards, a small fury in her eyes.  “Want you?  Of course I still want you, Jane.  The feelings that built up over a number of years did not simply dissipate in five months.  No matter how much I wished for such an action, they are still there, screaming and tugging at me like a three year-old child.”  However, this was not a quick reconciliation. 

“And so I’m here, telling you that I love you.  I don’t want to lose you, Maura.  And I’m sorry for what I did.  I know that I can never take it back.  But I’m here.”  When Jane’s eyes softened, and a slight grin appeared on her face, Maura gave her no opportunity to continue in her attempts to charm her.  Now distancing herself even further by standing on the other side of the island, her back to the window, she was faced with a frustration.  Because Jane didn’t seem to understand.

A heavy sigh emanated from her as her hand instinctively found her way to her cheek, feeling like a cliché as she wiped away the tears which began to fall there.  She was so embarrassed.  But more so, she was irritated.

“You left, Jane.  I opened my soul to you in the middle of Aéroport de Paris-Charles de Gaulle, and you still left me.  You – more than anybody – know how much I struggle with matters of the heart.  It took me so long to feel comfortable with you, to be able to rely on you as my friend and to know that I could fully trust you.  I had never felt such a sense of security before.  So, to take that leap, to say to you what I had agonised over alone for a long while…” she trailed off, lost in her train of thought and the pain that accompanied it.  Quickly brought back, she soon continued.  “It was terrifying.  And you simply said ‘I’m sorry’ and boarded an eight-hour flight.”

Having lifted an incredible metaphorical weight from her chest, she turned her back on her friend and put away a few dry dishes that Jane had sat on the counter.  It was a perfect excuse to hide the tears which were unsurprisingly beginning to form.  Maura detested confrontation, especially when it came to Jane, but she had thought about it for too long.  She had been so sad.  Her time in Paris was supposed to be reinvigorating, but any memory of joy was clouded with Jane’s rejection.  With her head hanging low as it leaned against the door of a cabinet, she heard the familiar squeak of Converse sneakers come closer. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Maur,” Jane tread carefully with her words.  She was fully aware of how easily she could slip into her defensive nature as though she was fighting with Frankie or Tommy.  But this was Maura.  And with Maura, now more than ever, she needed to be delicate.

When the medical examiner didn’t turn around, she knew this wouldn’t be easy, whatever it was that she was going to attempt.  So she began.  “I am sorry,” her tone was determined and yet heartfelt all at once.  “I missed you too, you know.  I’m sorry for what I did to you, Maura.  The last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt you.  But I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings then.  That’s not an excuse for what I did – there isn’t one – but it’s the truth.”  Her hand deftly ran its long fingers through brown curls as she exhaled loudly.   “I knew how I felt about you.  Deep down, I knew.”

It was these words which caused Maura to spin on her heels to face Jane again.  Her face was a picture of sheer heartbreak; Jane struggled to keep eye contact.  “Then why did you go?  We could have been together, all this time we-” but her words were interrupted by the response of the former detective.

“Because I couldn’t admit it.  The fear and the shame instilled in me were breaking me, Maur.  I needed stability,” Jane said, knowing the second she had done so, that her word choice was poor and damaging.  But it was too late.

The medical examiner bit back immediately, her facial expression screaming nothing but agony.  “Stability? What on earth would make you think that I couldn’t give you stability?”

Jane protested, her eyes pleading, “That’s not what I meant.  I’m sorry.”  Exhaling heavily, her frustration at her inability to articulate her thoughts evident.  “I needed space.  I needed routine and a distraction and new faces.  That’s why I went to DC.  I thought it would let me come to my senses.”

Absorbing the words she had just heard, the medical examiner focused her gaze on the granite of the kitchen island.  A few moments of silence were necessary to compose herself, regardless of the anxiety said silence was giving Jane.  “You thought it would ‘straighten you out’.  You thought you’d stop thinking about it if you weren’t around me.” 

Jane looked as though she’d just been shot.  Again.  It was true that nobody knew her better than Maura.  Her family and Korsak may have known her longer and supported her through various struggles such as the first incident with Hoyt, but they weren’t Maura.  The woman before her had such an intricate understanding of how her mind worked, how she felt and the reasons for those feelings.  Once again, she could see right through her.  And here, under these circumstances, it broke Jane’s heart.

Two olive hands covered her face from sight as she felt her own heart sink.  Pushing her hair away from her face, she looked into those hazel eyes she would never tire of.  They no longer sparkled with a jubilance or the _joie de vivre_ (as Maura would say) that she often exuded.  Now, they only carried a bleak melancholia that looked as though it could never fade.  _Fuck_ , Jane thought as those eyes began to bore into her soul.  “Yeah, I did.  And I hate myself for thinking that way.”

Unintentionally, Maura lightly scoffed as she tried to lighten the mood, much to Jane’s surprise.  “I can understand being incredibly frustrated with yourself Jane, but perhaps self-loathing is a little extreme.”  She closed the physical distance between them, walking over and attempting to place her hand gently on toned triceps.  But Jane didn’t agree.

Moving herself away from her friend, Jane responded a little harshly, “For you, Maura.  Your parents were liberally-minded, for the most part.  It was never enforced upon you that loving anyone other than a man was nothing other than a shortcut to Hell.  You know what Mom’s like, and Pops?”  Maura rolled her eyes in acknowledgement.  “I unlearned all of that hatred for the sake of people I had met.  I knew that love didn’t have a gender.  But when it came to me, and who I was?” Tears began to escape Jane’s eyes.  “I couldn’t face it.”

What happened next was pure instinct. The way Maura rubbed Jane’s back soothingly as tears continued to fall, the way Jane let her.  It felt natural because it was.  How they used to be, before everything fell apart months ago.  Within a few moments, the smaller woman had wrapped the other in a warm embrace, one which was rather overwhelming for both of them.  Falling into her arms after so long away from each other – both physically and emotionally – almost made Jane cry even more. 

They stayed that way for a couple of minutes.  Words weren’t needed at that moment.  So much had been said, and it was likely that more was to come, but for now, this was enough.  The way they were both gripping on to their bodies was beyond indicative of how much they had missed each other.  Furthermore, words were never necessary when everything Maura wanted to say could be said with a simple touch. 

“I’m sorry,” Jane chuckled nervously as she swallowed the remainder of her tears, eventually withdrawing from the hug.  Wiping her own cheeks, she never broke eye contact with Maura.  She was somehow stronger now. 

Her hands held out on either side of the woman in front of her, Maura’s expression was sincere.  “You never have to apologise for who you are,” she responded, her voice reminiscent of a fleecy blanket.  “Not to me, Jane.” 

It made sense.  When Jane dipped her head slightly, leaning in towards the smaller woman, closing her eyes and parting her lips slowly as she placed them on hers, it made sense.  Maybe she had been subconsciously wishing for this moment for years, maybe it had been all she had thought of since she had boarded that plane.  But after all that time of wanting and waiting, it had been worth it.  It had felt like she was supposed to do this every day.  And it’s probably because that was what she wanted.  She wanted Maura.  She wanted Maura more than anything in the world.

The kiss was careful.  Neither woman invested too much in it after the difficult topic they had just been – and still were – discussing.  It wasn’t too passionate for them to take things further, because neither of them particularly wanted that, not right then, anyway.  A little part of Jane was surprised the kiss was being returned in the first place. 

Maura’s lips were everything she’d hoped they would be.  How they felt against her own was other-worldly; she never wanted to kiss a man, or anybody else for that matter, again.  Later, she would think about the way Maura’s hold on her arms had loosened during the kiss, and how her own hands had found their place on familiar shoulders.  But whilst she was kissing Maura Isles, all she could think about was the fact that she was kissing Maura Isles.

The medical examiner was just as cautious.  Whilst she, too, had dreamt of this for a very, very long time, there was a worry that it was all a lie.  Her fear of abandonment was sneakily resurfacing at the most inconvenient time. 

Deep down, she knew that she had never trusted someone the way she trusted Jane.  No one else could bring her such comfort.  However, there was a figurative voice in her head reminding her of that horrendous scene at the airport.  She did her best to push those thoughts away.  She merely wanted this one thing.

What had felt like hours ended after a minute or so when Jane eventually ended the embrace, a nervous smile plastered across her face.  Butterflies inside her had never been so enthusiastic.  And yet she became a little more grounded when she looked at Maura, who was a little less settled than herself.  “Hey, you okay?” she asked immediately, taking Maura’s hands in her own as she had done countless times. 

Jane was relieved when she was met with a nod, followed by, “Yes, I’m fine.  I just...I’m glad you’re here, Jane.”  Even the way her voice danced over the words, the way she said her name made Jane smile.  She couldn’t help but feel hopeful. 

“Me too, Maur.”  Their hands remained intertwined until they weren’t, when Maura suddenly became conscious of the fact that her palms were perspiring.  Embarrassed, she tried to nonchalantly slide them into her trouser pockets as she walked over to the kitchen island again.  She couldn’t help needing a little distance.  The last few minutes had been completely confounding.

Sighing heavily, she leaned against the island, trying not to let her anxieties externally materialise as she asked Jane, “So what now?”  The kiss had partially softened the atmosphere of the room, but both women knew there were still things to discuss. 

“Uhm,” Jane began, now avoiding eye contact as her nerves became evident once again.  “Do you think you will ever be able to forgive me?”  She felt like she was asking to borrow the Crown Jewels.  The thing was that, to her, Maura’s forgiveness was worth her weight in gold.  An unsteady hand rushed through her own hair, because she knew if she didn’t do something with it, its constant shaking would be more than obvious.

There was a slight delay in the response; Maura seriously considered her answer.  “To an extent I think that, subconsciously, I already have.”  Jane had never been so grateful for Maura’s inability to lie.  “I don’t mean to misappropriate the findings of the Kübler-Ross model on the five stages of grief, but after you left, the feelings I then experienced were somewhat similar to those in the study.  I have lost a lot of people in my life, but none of those goodbyes hurt as much as ours.”  Hearing Maura admit this saddened Jane beyond belief. 

“After telling myself you’d come back, being furious with both you and myself, getting lost in the ‘what ifs’ I never used to contemplate, and feeling somewhat depressed for a while, I came to accept the truth: you were gone.  Whatever I had hoped for us wasn’t going to happen.  To a point, that wasn’t the fault of anybody, and I knew I was just going to have to deal with it.  And I think that with that, part of me forgave you for leaving.”  Maura had never expected to expose herself in this manner tonight, but she knew that both she and Jane needed to hear it. 

Slowly, the other woman took a few steps towards her, unsure of what she was going to say next but nonetheless fully intent on supporting her.  “Does it still hurt? Yes, if I am honest.  Will it always hurt? I’d be willing to speculate that it’s unlikely.”  Jane couldn’t help but smile at the way the medical examiner’s professional attitude was woven so deeply with who she was personally.  Her heart swelled when that smile was returned.

“I’ve missed you so, so much.” Jane’s voice was soft as though she was trying to be delicate.  Closing the gap between them, she gently held onto the hand Maura was using to steady herself against the counter.  A reassuring smile was the least she could give as she said, “And I am so, so grateful that you even let me into your house tonight.”  They both laughed at Jane’s joke, except they both knew that it wasn’t really a joke.  “No, seriously Maur, thanks for hearing me out.”

Maura was silent as she looked up into her eyes, her own filling with glassy tears.  She didn’t mind; there was comfort to be found in being vulnerable around Jane.  “Hey, don’t cry.”  Jane used her other hand to free flushed cheeks from the tears.  Under her fingertips, she could feel the burning of porcelain skin, skin she had missed touching. 

“I’ve really missed you, too, Jane,” came the eventual reply through a pained smile. 

Jane hated seeing her so emotional, even more so when she was somehow involved.  “You don’t need to cry.  I’m here, okay?”  Maura did her best to regain some composure, mainly for the other woman.  However, it was completely futile.

“That’s the thing,” she spoke almost inaudibly.  Placing her own hand on top of Jane’s as it rested on her cheek, they then became entwined.  “We’ve gone so long without each other, and now that you’re here...” she trailed off, a combination of being lost in her own thoughts and being terrified of a repeat situation of the last time she confessed her feelings.  But then she realised that she already done this once.  Jane already knew the depth of her feelings, didn’t she?  Would it really be so hard just so say it?  “I don’t want to lose you, Jane.  No matter where you are in the world, I can’t endure another month without you in my life.  You’re my best friend, I-” she was politely interrupted.

“Do you think that I could ever be more than that?”  Jane’s eyes were wild, and Maura could feel the sweatiness of her palms and her fingers.  This was a stark contrast from the Jane she had seen grabbing her suitcase and heading for security without looking back.  Taking such a step, asking the question Maura had been desperate to hear was incredible personal progress, and Jane knew it too.  Maybe something good had come out of the devastation.

Nodding slowly at first, Maura’s head movement sped up as she fully began to cry.  Through the sobs, she managed to utter, “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to hear that.”  For once, the tears were ones of joy, of relief.

Instinctively, Jane pulled her in for a hug, keeping her close and using her height to her advantage as she planted a kiss on the forehead she could happily kiss forever.  “Hey, hey,” she said as placed a hand on the back of Maura’s head, almost protecting the smaller woman whose face was buried in her own hair.  Jane’s mind momentarily wandered to the thought of Maura’s long, honey blonde hair, another thing she had missed about her.  “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.  We’ll work it out, together.  You and me, Maur.”  She could feel Maura nodding against her body. 

Save for the sound of Maura’s sniffles, silence had filled the room.  However, there was something comfortable about it.  Maura knew that over the years, she and Jane had grown so close and come to know each other so well, that everything could be said with a look or, in this case, a silence.  And this one told her that in spite of everything they had experienced in the past year or so, Jane had no intentions of losing her again.  In Jane’s arms, she was certain that she could never feel so safe elsewhere. 

Truthfully, Jane didn’t know exactly how it was going to work out.  For the sake of this moment, however, she remained optimistic.  Internally, it was a different story.  There were still going to be a few hundred miles between them.  Jane dreaded her return to DC just as much as she knew Maura did.  _But it’s your job,_ came the voice in her head.

_Yes, but it’s Maura,_ whispered another.

It was then she knew, finally, that it was time to come home.  Home to Boston. 

Home to Maura.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading, any feedback is deeply welcome and appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thank you so, so much for reading. With reference to my previous works, I just wanted to say thank you for any comments and kudos left. It means a lot to know people are reading and enjoying what I'm writing. That said, all feedback is deeply appreciated.


End file.
